


Picture Perfect

by scarsandammunition



Series: Photo Finish [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, F/F, Getting to Know Each Other, Model!Margaery, Naked Photoshoots, POV Sansa Stark, Photographer!Sansa, Photoshoots, Porn With Plot, Sansa and Marge just being really horny for each other that's the plot, Scissoring, Vaginal Fingering, a little fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarsandammunition/pseuds/scarsandammunition
Summary: Sansa always thought being a photographer would be easy – change the angle here, manipulate the lighting there, get some great shots and everyone’s happy. Most shoots should go off without a hitch, right?But then again, not every shoot had a model as beautiful as Margaery Tyrell.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Meera Reed/Bran Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Shireen Baratheon/Rickon Stark, Talisa Maegyr/Robb Stark
Series: Photo Finish [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981816
Comments: 26
Kudos: 122





	Picture Perfect

Sansa was always a tea person. Unlike her siblings, she was never really one for coffee, preferring to falling asleep with tea instead of keeping awake with coffee. Even at Robb and Jon’s insistence on adding some liquor improved her opinion on the matter.

However, it was at times like this that she was changing her stance; running to the nearest store and buying the strongest brand they had – she was desperate for a much-needed wake-up boost. For hours, she had been staring at the photos she had taken, removing and erasing even the smallest of imperfections. Arya called her pedantic, but Sansa preferred perfectionist; if something was going to be done, then it should be done right.

“Hey Sans,” her sister called out from the adjoining room, “you finished?”

“In here,” she replied. “And almost.” She heard footsteps and saw her younger sister appear at her side, holding the iPad and brows furrowed at the screen. Arya looked up at the photo’s that were currently on Sansa’s screen.

“Are those from the Tarly’s wedding?”

“Yeah, I was hoping to get them done before Sam and Gilly got back from their honeymoon,” Sansa said.

“They’re looking good so far,” Arya complemented. As often as they disagreed, they always did have their quiet sense of admiration for the others’ work. Sansa gave her a soft smile; they may look good but it was tiring work, making tiny adjustments to a photo she’d been staring at for the past six hours.

“I don’t suppose you met any Tyrell’s at that wedding, did you?”

Sansa cast her mind back – she didn’t mingle much that day; some polite chatter with guests, curious about what she was doing, the occasional drink with Jon or the happy couple; avoiding Sam’s brother like the plague, who had taken to hit on her at every opportunity.

But she did run into Joffrey’s uncle and his boyfriend. It was nice to see Renly after so long – the only member of Joffrey’s family that Sansa actually liked rather than just tolerated – and seemed to be doing well for himself. And he looked very smitten with his new fiancé, Loras, as they perused the wedding, deciding what they would have at their wedding and what they would change.

“Yeah, I did,” Sansa said. “But only in passing. We never exchanged more than a couple of words.”

“Well, whatever you were doing must’ve had an effect on him; look at this.” Arya handed her the iPad with an important looking email already open on it.

_To whomever it may concern,_

_I am writing with an opportunity for your small studio – we would like to hire your services in shooting some photos in order to promote our new swimwear range. This would be a wonderful chance for your studio to work with some real professionals in the industry and show off the skills you may have to all our customers. All clothes that we plan to model will be of our design and will be sent to you in the coming days should you choose to accept; do not fret. Please see the attached document for additional details as well as a quote._

_Hoping to hear your answer soon._

_Regards,_

_Olenna Tyrell,_

_CEO of Tyrell Industries_

“Wow. Didn’t expect that to get a contract like that,” Sansa remarked.

“Yep,” Arya said. “It’s not every day a worldwide company messages a _small studio_ like ours.” A grin grew on her face.

Sansa giggled. “That was kinda rude. Making sure we know they’re bigger than us and they have other options.”

“Yeah, that’s supposedly just their way though. You remember those water dancing classes I used to take? Well, they did something similar to them – ensuring they wore Tyrell designed clothes for their performance as” – Arya’s voice turned pompous and classy – “ _it would be a pity if the opportunity were turned down and no-one was able to see your talents_.”

Sansa burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh yes, and after we can go for tea and caviar on my private yacht off the coast of Dorne,” she mimicked, causing Arya to snort with laughter too.

“In all seriousness,” Arya began once she had recovered, “she’s not wrong. The attention we’d get for doing this would be _huge_. Plus, look at the quote she offered.”

Sansa looked at the attached document; her eyebrows shot up to her hairline when she saw the price.

“ _Wow_. Th- thi- this is just… _wow_ ,” she barely managed to stammer out. “Do you know what we could do with that kind of money?”

“Studio expansion, camera upgrades, better lighting. Figured it all out already. Plus, you know, a little something extra for you and me.”

It really was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“There’s only one slight hiccup,” Arya went on. “You’ll probably be on your own for this one – the date they want, the 19th, is the same day as Hot Pie’s restaurant opening; I’d already said I’d help cover that.”

“It’s a big project Arya – I don’t think I can handle it all by myself.”

“You’ll be fine, Sans. It’ll be just a couple of pics of Loras lounging around shirtless or in his underwear. Besides, Renly would probably turn up with him anyway and you like him well enough.”

“It’s not the company I’m worried about,” Sansa responded, “it’s more the actual process. What if they don’t like how I shoot? Or they don’t think the photos I take are good enough?”

“Quit worrying,” her sister said. “If it goes well – great, we got a lot of publicity and hopefully some new clients. If it does badly – we get paid a lot and never have to see them again. Either way, it’s a win-win.”

Sansa ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “I guess you’re right. Doesn’t stop me being nervous about it though.”

Arya put her hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine; don’t get so worked up about it. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

\--------------------

Sansa double-checked that her camera was still functioning, all the lights were still working, every inch of their sets still looked perfect; she didn’t want to mess anything up. The past ten or so days since they had received the email had been highly stressful for her – she had been working overtime to ensure everything was ready and prepared, not a single thing out of place; Arya had just watched, amused as ever.

But all her hard-worked had seemed to pay off. Everything was perfect, awaiting their big moment; Sansa could finally relax and prepare for the shoot.

If only her body got the message.

Her stomach did somersaults, the constant anxiety she had been feeling finally coming to a peak. How was she meant to take pictures of a world-class model if her hands were shaking this much?

It was times like this that she wished she had Arya with her; her realism did ground her and hearing things in perspective did help her anxieties.

Sansa’s phone went off and she went to see it; as if she could read her mind, she found a message from her sister awaiting her.

**_Arya_ **

_I can hear you overthinking this from here_

_Relax_

_It’ll be fine_

_Easy for you to say. You’re not the one doing this shoot._

_There’s some whiskey in the back if you want some Dutch courage?_

_Arya! I thought we agreed we weren’t going to drink at work?_

_You did_

_I made no such promise_

_I usually do if I’m just working late_

_Or if clients are just really frustrating to work with_

_Oh, I’m sure that’ll help me. Turning up to a shoot reeking of alcohol will definitely give off the right first impression._

_For fuck sakes sis_

_I don’t know what you want me to suggest_

_Fake it ‘til you make it?_

_Doesn’t look like I have many other options!_

Sansa just finished pressing send on her text as she heard the door to the studio open. She came out the back expecting to see Loras or even Renly waiting to greet her.

Instead, she found… _a_ _woman_?

This woman had chestnut-haired, curling around her face and sitting just above her shoulders. She had a curious look on her face as she perused the artwork on the walls; Sansa could just make out two small moles on the side of her face, her lip slightly curled in either a smile or admiration.

And then she turned to look at Sansa, with doe brown eyes, wide and wonderful, the small smile having grown to fill her entire face.

She was _beautiful_.

“Hi,” she said, her voice silky and smooth.

“Hi,” Sansa responded. “Can I help you?”

“I thought you were expecting me? We booked a photoshoot for Margaery Tyrell?”

 _Margaery Tyrell_. That was a pretty name.

Sansa didn’t have long to dwell on that fact before she caught back up to reality. “Gods, I’m so sorry! Yes, you are booked in! Sorry, I was just expecting Loras instead; I wasn’t anticipating a woman instead.”

The brunette – Margaery – laughed. “I see my grandmother must’ve left the fact off the document she sent you. I’m his sister.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Margaery. I’m Sansa.” She extended her hand to shake and it took less than two heartbeats for the brunette to take it. Sansa momentarily lost herself in how soft Margaery’s skin was, how gentle her touch was.

Sansa grabbed her phone and gestured for Margaery to follow her. As she walked her to the changing room, she quickly sent a message to her sister.

**_Arya_ **

_You didn’t tell me it wouldn’t be Loras’ sister instead of him!_

_I didn’t know either?_

_She didn’t mention that in the file she sent me_

_Well, imagine how I felt having it sprung upon me!_

“We got your clothes package a couple of days ago,” Sansa said as they got to the changing room. “I hung them up, laid them out and all that; just let me know what you wanna get started with.”

“I was thinking maybe we could start with the swimwear stuff? You know since it’s the one that requires me to get undressed the most,” Margaery replied, regarding Sansa kindly.

“Sure thing; I’ll just be upstairs.”

Margaery walked into the room with a smile as Sansa left to set up her equipment. As she walked the room with the indoor pool they had, she texted Arya again.

**_Arya_ **

_Is she nice?_

_Nice enough I guess. We haven’t spoken all that much yet._

_You sound disappointed_

_Shocked. I was not expecting her._

_How’s the restaurant opening?_

_It’s hectic_

_But I’ve got some good shots for his website and stuff_

_I’ll bring back some lemon cakes for you_

_Thank you_ _😊_

Margaery came through the door just as Sansa put her phone down. And what a sight she was to behold: a red and white bikini set that generously hugged her skin, and yet still showed off all her voluptuous curves; a light blue shirt tied together just below her breasts completed the outfit off.

 _She’s gorgeous_ , she thought to herself.

“Why thank you, sweet girl,” her smile beaming at the redhead. “You’re quite the looker yourself,” she winked.

Sansa could feel herself blushing at Margaery’s comment; she hadn’t meant to voice her thought aloud. She pretended to adjust her camera to avoid Margaery’s gaze as the brunette walked down the steps into the pool.

As she pretended to make herself busy, she noticed a slight tremble to her hands. She could imagine what Arya would say if she were here: _Is this who you are? A pretty girl complements you and suddenly, you’re a mess? Get yourself together Sansa._

She found the confidence from somewhere to face Margaery again; except, the brunette was facing away from her, wadding her way to the deeper end. Sansa could only watch as Margaery’s arse cheeks raised up and down with every step she took, perfectly encapsulated in her tight bikini bottom.

Sansa’s mouth went dry at the sight.

She busied herself with getting the camera in position just before Margaery caught her staring.

“Is the pool temperature okay? I know a few people find it a little too warm,” she asked, trying to get her mind off of thoughts of Margaery’s backside.

“It’s fine, thank you,” the brunette called back. “It’s wonderfully warm compared to outside.”

“It’s not even that cold outside. You southerners are just weak,” she replied. She hadn’t even meant to tease her but being born in the North meant she was more than adjusted to such weathers.

“Oh, please! There’s no way you’re not cold too!”

“Winterfell, born and raised. The coldest winter here is our summer there,” Sansa said. She picked up her camera stand and started to set up on the poolside in front of Margaery, ensuring that she was far enough to not get water on her or the camera.

“Winterfell, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever been that far north. And if the weather is as pleasant as you say, I don’t think that’ll change either,” Margaery replied.

“Weak southern blood,” Sansa tutted. _Although I bet I could find a way to keep you warm_ , her brain added, although thankfully not vocalising it this time.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to start. Is there any particular style you wanted to go for?” Sansa asked.

Margaery screwed up her nose in just a way Sansa found adorable. “Erm, not really. I trust you with any judgements you wanna make.”

_Alright, Sansa - try not to mess this up._

She began by taking some top-heavy shots of her, focusing on everything above her petite waist; Margaery leaning back against the poolside pushed forward her breasts and stomach, which Sansa assumed was intentional.

“Have you done shoots before?” Sansa asked.

“This is actually my first shoot. Not unless you count the pictures I put on my Instagram,” Margaery responded. Before Sansa could ever ask her to, she adjusted her hair so that more of her face was exposed.

“That’s surprising. You’re a natural at this.” She could see Margaery try to suppress a grin through her camera lens.

“Thank you, sweet girl. But I usually prefer designing clothes to modelling them; everything here is by me. I felt it would be more of a personal touch if I modelled them this time,” the brunette said.

Sansa stuck her head out from the camera to regard Margaery in with her own eyes. “You made these?” Margaery nodded at her, a shy smile on her face. “They’re really great. Honestly.” _And not just because they expose all that skin that I’d love to touch an-_

_Focus Sansa._

“Thank you; a girl might get a little big-headed with all the compliments they’ve been getting,” Margaery said, her smile growing into a smirk.

“I only compliment when it’s deserved,” Sansa retorted, “although if my sister were here, I doubt you’d get any.” Sansa moved over to Margaery side and bent down close to her. “Face me but not at the camera.”

Margaery followed her instruction, keeping one hand in her head as she looked just above Sansa. “Yeah, Arya isn’t it?” Sansa nodded. “From what my grandmother says, she’s a bit curt.”

“Your grandmother called her curt?”

“Not exactly.” Margaery sounded like she was suppressing a laugh. “She said something far ruder but I didn’t wish to offend you.”

Sansa put her camera down. “Trust me, my siblings and I all probably said worse to each other growing up,” shaking her head, thinking back to the many arguments her and her sister had growing up. Thankfully, they had grown past their differences a long while ago.

Margaery laughed, and Sansa was sure that she had never heard a sweeter sound. “I know the feeling; me and Loras were the same. Constantly fighting and bickering. I love him dearly but he is a pain in my arse at times.”

“Aren’t all siblings?” Sansa said, trying to remove any image of Margaery’s arse from her mind, lest she blush or worse. “Move over a little; I was thinking we get some more natural shots of you.”

Margaery waded to the middle while Sansa walked around the poolside; she laid down to get Margaery in the best possible light. “So look at me but act as if you’re just getting out the pool, but pretty naturally.” She watched as Margaery gripped the handlebars of the ladder to get out, looking directly up, as if she could see Sansa through the camera.

“So what about you, Sansa Stark? How comes you’re a photographer, destined to capture people’s greatest angles?”

Sansa giggled. “I enjoyed taking pictures when I grew up. You know, people, nature, buildings, all the stereotypical things. And my sister got into it too – I think that’s what brought us closer together honestly – and eventually, we start doing small jobs until we had enough to move out of Winterfell and down here.”

“You both find beauty wherever you find it kinda thing? I think I get it. Don’t think I’d ever be able to do something talented as you myself.”

“But you already do,” Sansa challenged. “You just express yourself through a different medium; I do it through pictures, you do it through your clothes. Doesn’t mean you aren’t as talented, it just means you express yourself differently.”

Sansa finished getting the shots she needed of Margaery; she looked up from her camera to find the brunette regarding her with a gentle smile.

“What?” she asked, finding herself smiling back.

“Just – what you said. It was really sweet. Kinda like you really.” Sansa’s smile grew of its own accord and she found herself ducking away before her blush could overtake her entire face. She tried to hide her face with her camera, away from Margaery’s knowing grin.

“So, err, I think I have every shot I, err, need. So, if you wanna get out whenever you’re ready, you, you know, can…” Sansa barely managed to stammer out.

Margaery climbed up the rest of the ladder out of the pool and moved close to Sansa. “I don’t suppose I could ask you for a towel? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but…” - she looked directly into Sansa’s eyes, her brown eyes alight with mischief, a sultry grin written all over her face - “I’m a little wet.”

Sansa felt her cheeks light right up as she moved to grab a towel from the cupboard and brought it to Margaery, trying to avoid all eye contact with the brunette; she could tell Margaery still had a shit-eating smirk.

“We can do another shoot whenever you’re ready,” Sansa said, packing up her camera equipment.

“Sure thing. I had some lingerie I wanted to model for you,” Margaery responded, drying her legs.

_Model for me? Or model for me to shoot? Gods, pull yourself together Stark._

Sansa walked Margaery back to the changing room and moved into the adjacent room, which was their bedroom set; she was thankful that she had the foresight to actually make the bed instead of leaving it bare as Arya suggested.

She went about setting up her camera equipment and definitely didn’t linger on the fact that Margaery Tyrell would be laying in front of her almost completely nude; as much as she tried to suppress that thought, it still came around in her mind.

Margaery walked into the room after having changed - if Sansa thought the swimsuit was too distracted, then this was on a whole other level; the brunette was dressed in a silky pink nightdress that loosely hung from her shoulders, stopping just above her thighs. Her legs were on display, hairless and smooth, as she moved towards the bed and directly into Sansa’s line of vision.

“Do you like this one?” she asked, almost challenging the redhead.

“Yeah,” she said a bit too quickly. “It’s very err, very… nice.”

_Nice? That’s the best you can come up with?_

Sansa was close to fighting her brain at this point; Margaery just seemed eternally amused at her state of befuddlement.

“So if you wanna just lay down but relax with it. Don’t look like you’re trying to pose or anything,” Sansa instructed, trying to keep her cool. Once again, Margaery followed her instructions, even improving upon them, without any additional comment from the redhead, something Sansa was still surprised at seeing.

“So,” Margaery said into the silence, “you mentioned siblings earlier. I’m guessing there’s more than just Arya?”

“In total – there’s six of us.”

Sansa saw Margaery’s eyebrows raise through the camera. “Gods, and I thought just the four of us was a lot!”

Sansa laughed, gaining back some of her confidence. “It definitely was a lot growing up. I can’t tell you how many times I felt like I was going mad with all them.”

Margaery made a noise of agreement. “No arguments here. Even as the youngest, it felt like a madhouse. You’d think being older means they’d be more mature but no, it felt more the opposite most times.”

“Can definitely relate to that one,” she sniggered.

“Tell me about them.”

Sansa stopped for a moment, baffled. She peered over the top of her camera. “You wanna hear about my family? Why?”

Margaery shrugged. “I just wanna hear about you. Anything about you really.”

Sansa ducked back behind the camera, failing to hide her blush as she did so. Margaery hadn’t even outright flirted with her and still, she was a mess; Margaery really was something else.

“Erm, right – where to start really? There’s Robb, he’s the eldest. He works with Dad in the Northern council; he got married a year ago to Talisa, she’s a nurse. Mum keeps pressuring them for kids but they keep findings excuses for it,” Sansa said, shaking her head softly. She could see through her camera that Margaery had a soft smile on her face.

“There’s Jon, my other older brother,” she continued. “Well, he’s not really my brother – he’s technically my cousin – but considering mum and dad raised him since before I was born, we all consider him our brother. He’s in the ranger up north and has a girlfriend who could give Arya a run for her money in fighting.” Sansa thought back to when she first met Ygritte and how she terrified her ever so slightly; Arya, Bran and Rickon took to her immediately, especially when she said she could teach them an unarmed takedown.

Sansa studied Margaery over her camera for a moment, considering the best angles she could catch Margaery’s beauty from. “Hey Margaery, could you sit on your knees, but at like a side angle?”

Margaery followed her instruction as Sansa continued to take pictures. “There’s Arya, who you already know of; she runs this place with me. She’s at a friend’s restaurant opening today. She’s, err, probably my best friend, as sad as that sounds.”

“It’s not sad,” Margaery said. “There’s nothing wrong with it; Loras is one of my best friends.”

“As much as we bicker, I do care about her a lot,” she said, forming a smile at the thought of her sister.

“I’d imagine so,” Margaery responded, “I doubt you’d open a business with her if you hated each other.”

Sansa giggled at her teasing. “That’s true. I also have two younger brothers. There’s Bran, he’s at uni studying… something sciencey – I’ll be honest, a lot of what he says goes straight over my head.” She smiled when she heard Margaery’s laugh. “Honestly, he’s so ridiculously smart. He brought his girlfriend home when we were back once and I’m not exaggerating, no one had any clue what they were saying.”

“And then there’s Rickon, the youngest. I’ve no idea what he wants to do – one moment he wants to go to uni, the next he’s wanting to travel to Essos for a gap year; you never know with him.”

“I think I’ve heard that name before,” Margaery said, pushing her hair up and arching her back. “Is her dating a girl called Shireen by any chance?”

“Yeah, he is – how’d you know?” she asked.

“That’s my soon to be good-niece. I think. I’m not great at family trees.”

“Wow – it’s a small world,” said Sansa. “Anyway, I think I’m done with all the shots. Not unless there’s anything else you wanted me to shoot you in?” Sansa asked, secretly hoping Margaery had more outfits; she wanted to keep talking to her, regardless of how flustered she got seeing Margaery in very little.

“Actually,” Margaery began, a smirk once again overtaking her face, “there is something I want to try… could you shoot me naked?”

Sansa’s brain promptly stopped. “N-naked?

“Yeah, think it’ll be fun to try.” Margaery smirk was alluring and daring all at once. “Would that be a problem?”

Sansa shook her head a little too fast. “No, n-n-not, not at all. Just pose in whatever shots you want me to take.”

Margaery beamed at her, already moving to remove her nightdress. Sansa quickly turned, pretending to fiddle with her camera to hide what seemed to be a never-ending blush; she was certain Margaery was going to be the death of her.

“Ready whenever you are, sweet girl.”

She turned just as Margaery climbed atop the sheets and managed to get a clear view of the brunette’s arse; Gods, seeing it through her bikini bottom drove her crazy so seeing it with nothing covering it was close to sending her mad.

The brunette kept her front against the headboard of the bed, but sat on her knees, looking over her shoulder back at Sansa with a grin on her face, her arse on full display for the camera. Sansa could already tell it was going to be a struggle to not ogle at her naked body.

She began to snap photos of the brunette when Margaery broke the silence yet again. “Sansa?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there someone at home for you? You know, hot boyfriend, cute girlfriend?”

Sansa almost choked. There was no way Margaery was naked in her studio asking about her relationship status. No way.

“No, just me.”

Margaery gasped teasingly. “There’s no way someone as beautiful as you is single; I don’t believe it.”

 _She thinks I’m beautiful_. Sansa felt a warmth bloom in her chest, and not just because of her anxiety.

“I’m serious. If Arya doesn’t drag me out, then it’s just me and my dog.”

Margaery looked pleased with Sansa’s answer, looking at Sansa with something that she couldn’t decipher. It’d been years since her last actual relationship; Harry was just an absolute _knob_ and Joffrey… well, the less said about that, the better. It’d been lonely for Sansa since then – which wasn’t that bad, it allowed her to focus on herself and her work – but she’d be lying if she hadn’t thought about being with someone.

Someone _kind_.

Someone _understanding_.

Someone _beautiful_.

Someone like _Margaery_.

“You get all those shots?” Margaery called out, shaking the redhead from her stupor. Sansa nodded and watched how Margaery changed position. The brunette faced the camera, one hand covering her womanhood, and one arm covering over her tits, a hand covering her left breast; her fingers opened, allowing a rosy nipple to slip through and be on full display to the camera. To Sansa.

She gulped, starting to take pictures of the brunette. She was curious about Margaery, so decided to redirect the same question back.

“What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

“No,” Margaery responded, “I’ve been looking for someone but I haven’t found someone that makes me feel that spark, you know?”

“I get you,” she said, trying not to be too happy about Margaery’s singleness. “I’m the same really; no one makes me feel _it_.” The few dates she had been on had been nice, but she couldn’t see herself with any of them long-term.

She finished up with the frontal shots of the brunette and looked over her camera at her. “I’m finished with these if you want me to take anymore…”

Margaery moved back up the bed, propped the pillows against the headboard, leaned against it. She gave Sansa a sultry smile as she spread her legs wide apart, giving the redhead a completely unrestricted view of her perfect pussy. Sansa always believed that nothing in life was perfect, but with how the brunette was sitting there - her perky tits and immaculate cunt on full display - she was beginning to believe that Margaery Tyrell really was.

Sansa was sure she audibly squeaked; she could barely tear her eyes away from Margaery’s flawless body.

“Shouldn’t you be taking pictures?” the brunette asked, amusement clear in her voice.

Sansa said nothing – not trusting her brain with speaking just yet – and moved into position to take more photos of Margaery.

_Chill out, Sansa. There’s just a naked model on a bed in your studio that you’re meant to photograph. Nothing out of the ordinary there._

But Sansa wasn’t wildly attracted to most models and totally didn’t want to abandon her camera to kiss and touch every inch of available flesh on show until they were both marked in hickeys an-

 _FOCUS_.

She took and deep breath and attempted to shut up her brain, taking the pictures as quickly as she could to end her pining for Margaery; luckily, she managed to do so quicker than she thought she would.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got every shot I need,” Sansa said, barely able to keep her voice straight.

Margaery moved off of the bed and moved towards Sansa, the redhead trying to keep her eyes anywhere but on the brunette’s naked body. Margaery looked at the camera and slowly scrolled through the shots, sounds of approval coming from her mouth.

“These shots are really amazing,” Margaery smiled. “The lighting and the angles and everything is all just so – _wow._ You’re really talented at this.”

“Thank you,” Sansa blushed, barely able to keep a straight thought because a _literal naked model_ was standing _there_ , right in front of her. “But… a photograph can only be as beautiful as the person in it.”

Margaery laughed, and Sansa was sure that the brunette just heard her heart skip a beat. “Thank you, sweet girl, but no need to downplay your skills with a camera. No-one could make me look as good as this.”

 _They don’t need to_ , Sansa thought. _You’re already that breath-taking kind of beautiful_ _that I could never do justice to and just wanna push up against a wall and kiss and bite and mark all that skin unti-_

Gods, she was going to need a cold shower after this.

“So, I can probably get these ready with the photos from earlier,” Sansa said, desperately trying to focus on the earthly-brown of Margaery’s eyes and not the rosy tint of her nipples. “I can send them over by, let’s say, next week?”

Margaery chuckled and shook her head fondly at Sansa. “You misunderstand sweet girl.” Moving forward, she wrapped her arms around Sansa’s neck and pushed her naked body into the redheads’. “You see, the only person I want seeing those photos,” she moved directly to Sansa’s ear, dropping her voice to a whisper, “is you.”

Sansa’s brain shut off. Didn’t even give her a chance to formulate a response.

“I am reading the right signals, aren’t I? You want this too?” she asked, sounding unsure of herself for the first time.

Sansa simply nodded, not trusting herself to do much else.

“Can I kiss you, Sansa?”

Sansa moved first, bringing her lips down to the brunette; she was in disbelief on how soft they were, how gentle Margaery’s touch was. She felt her eager tongue try to enter her mouth and she didn’t even hesitate in letting it in; almost immediately it started to explore her mouth, battling her own tongue in her mouth.

She felt Margaery body get firmly pushed into her own, wrapping her own arms around the brunette. Sansa could feel Margaery’s enthusiasm in every kiss, every movement of her tongue as she was pushed against the bed, landing against it with a gentle thud.

Hands tugged at her shirt the moment she landed; she had never removed clothes faster in her lifetime, throwing it somewhere where she couldn’t care to think about. The same hands tugged at her trousers, which quickly followed the same fate as her shirt. Sansa was grateful that she chose to wear matching underwear, although she cursed herself for her choice; plain and white didn’t exactly scream sexy.

Margaery didn’t seem to care too much about it, eyes widening at the sight of them. Her mouth flew directly to Sansa’s neck, kissing and biting all the tender flesh. Sansa tilted her neck, letting Margaery pleasure her more and her hands came up and scratched down the brunette’s back.

Hands flew to her undergarments, eagerly removing what was left of her clothing. Margaery’s lips never left her neck and Sansa found herself unable to resist the brunette’s touch.

Margaery leant back once she was naked, seemingly admiring her naked body, brown eyes alight with desire. She started to gently follow her body down with a single finger, starting all the way at her cheek and travelling further and further south.

“It’s a shame,” Margaery said, following the curves of her slit, already soaked with her arousal. “I wish we arranged to shoot at my house.”

“Wh-why?” Sansa stammered, her mind cloudy from the brunette’s tracing.

Margaery lips moved up to form a devilish smile. She leant down and gave Sansa a very gentle kiss, the lightest pressure on her lips. The kisses were slow, moving up her face from her lips to her cheek to her cheekbones until they finally reached her ear; Sansa shivered at Margaery’s warm breath and delicate kisses to her ears.

“Because then I’d be able to fuck you properly,” she said, her voice low and husky. “The way I’d like to; getting to see you all tied up, spread out against my bed, just so ready for me… Gods, I can imagine it now.”

Sansa visualised it; her sex life had been pretty vanilla – almost non-existent all things considered - but the way Margaery would tower over her, that same seductive smirk on her face, her mind swarming with ideas on how well she’d fuck Sansa, she was sure she’d love it.

Hells, she was sure she’d love _anything_ Margaery did to her.

“And then I could get my cock,” Margaery continued, “and I could fuck you just like _this.”_ She emphasised her point by thrusting her fingers directly into Sansa’s cunt, eliciting a whine from the redhead; although thrust may be the wrong term – she practically glided her fingers in with how wet she was.

“Gods, I wanted to do this the moment I saw you,” she admitted, slowly moving in and out of Sansa’s pussy. “Those sexy long legs of yours and all that red hair… you’re a _goddess_ , Sansa Stark.” She leant down and pressed her lips to Sansa’s, exploring her mouth with her tongue; Sansa struggled to think straight, not with Margaery’s hot tongue in her mouth and her clever fingers in her cunt. She moaned into her mouth when the brunette found her clit, skirting over it with her thumb.

“Oh sweet girl,” she said, grinning down at her. “I’m gonna do everything in my power to hear that noise again.” She dived back down, giving Sansa one last gentle peck on her lips before moving down and attacking Sansa’s neck with kiss after kiss, the redhead involuntarily moving her head to give Margaery better access. She felt the brunette’s clever fingers curl inside her as her thumb drew small circles over her clit, the kisses against her neck turning into bites as Sansa barely kept it together.

“I’m so close,” she whispered, not even sure if she was capable of forming coherent words at this point.

“Already?” Margaery asked; Sansa could feel her grin against her neck as she kissed down it. “Am I really that good?”

Sansa had a response on the tip of her tongue, but that disappeared when Margaery moved and took her tit in her mouth, the brunette’s wet tongue circling around her areola; she didn’t even have a chance to suppress the moan that escaped from her lips. One of her hands found its way into soft, brown curls as Margaery’s magic tongue worked at her breast, the hand working at her cunt not stopping for a single moment.

“Sansa,” she drew out against her tit, “you’re so sexy, sweet girl. With your perfect tits and that wonderful pussy of yours. Gods, you’re just so _perfect_.”

“Marge-” she barely managed to choke out, “Margaery, _please_.”

Margaery kissed her way back up her body until she was back to Sansa’s earlobe. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, sweet girl? Seeing you so hot and wet and needy for me,” she whispered, her words going straight to Sansa’s core. “Gods, I’m soaked just doing this to you,” she said, taking Sansa’s hand and bringing it to her own cunt to demonstrate her point; Sansa practically rolled her eyes into the back of her head when she felt that Margaery was equally, if not more, wet.

Sansa brought her other hand up to Margaery’s cheek. “I’m so cl-close,” she half-whispered, half-whined, so desperate for the release that she could feel building up inside of her.

“I know.” Margaery gently bit at Sansa’s earlobe, her breath warm and heavy. “You feel so good, sweet girl. So slick and wet – Gods, I bet your cunt tastes so amazing right now.” Margaery pressed a line of kisses all the way from her earlobe to her mouth, ending with a gentle press of her lips to Sansa’s.

Margaery pulled away slightly, her lips still tingling against the redhead’s; not far enough to see her entire face, but just far enough so that Sansa could see how deep her hazel eyes were. “After this, I’m going to kiss my way down this sexy body of yours, pecking every inch of your skin that I can. I’m going to kiss those cute tits, wrap my mouth around those little nipples of yours. Then I’m going to get to that wonderfully tight cunt of yours, eating it up and making sure everything that comes out goes straight into my mouth.” The brunette pressed her lips to Sansa’s, so light it was as if she hadn’t done it at all. “Does that sound good, Sansa?”

Sansa lacked the cognitive power to even try to provide an answer, too caught up in Margaery’s dirty words, lost in pleasure against her fingers. She was barely able to make what she hoped was a positive sound and a nod of her head before moans threatened to spill out of her mouth.

“Then I just need you to do one thing, sweet girl.” Margaery pressed a gentle trail of kisses to her earlobe, her breath hot and wanting. “Come for me.”

Sansa couldn’t contain herself any longer; her orgasm shook her right to her core, a loud moan finally escaping from her lips. She felt her cunt tighten against Margaery’s fingers as she rode out her orgasm, their pace slowing ever so slightly. Her pleasure seemed to last a small eternity, brought into an entire world of enjoyment because of Margaery; Sansa barely managed to keep her eyes open, relaxing against the bed, gradually regaining her breath after her climax.

She felt Margaery’s lips slowly brush all over her face as her fingers gently came to a halt. Eyes; peck. Cheeks; kiss. Nose; smooch. It was only once she felt a tender connection between the brunette’s lips and her own that Sansa finally opened her eyes, only to be greeted with the most exquisite image she had ever seen; Margaery looking down at her, a delicate smile playing on her face, brown eyes full of affection.

Sansa raised her arms and looped them behind the brunette’s back, pulling Margery down to meet her lips once again. Sansa’s hands buried themselves in Margaery’s hair seemingly of their own accord as their mouths connected, each kiss full of vigour and becoming more and more aggressive but still containing a lustful passion.

After a series of kisses that Sansa wished would never end, Margaery pulled away, Sansa chasing her lips with her own. She heard the brunette chuckle before her lips returned, kissing Sansa back into the bed, a hand pressed against her shoulder.

Lips moved away from Sansa’s and landed on her neck, kissing and biting on all the soft flesh they could find. The hand in Margaery’s hair pulled tighter, not to cause any discomfort but to pull her closer, to eliminate any remaining space between them; she could feel Margaery smile into her neck.

Margaery continued to move south, down her body, reaching her tits. Hands came and cupped them both, fingers running over stiff peaks; Sansa let out a tiny whimper, rewarded with a sultry grin from Margaery. She kissed the nipple on one tit, running her tongue all around the areola, and kneaded her other tit, tracing all around the breast.

“That feels s- so good,” she barely managed to stammer out.

The brunette switched breasts, ensuring that both received the same loving treatment; Sansa didn’t find herself wanting to complain about it, too engrossed in the delight Margaery was so easily providing to her.

Margaery’s mouth moved away from her tits and down the rest of her body, a trail of kisses staring from her breasts and continuing down her stomach. The brunette had her hands wondering all over Sansa’s skin, as if she was mapping her out, figuring out where she liked and didn’t like to be touched.

Although, Margaery could touch her anywhere and she was sure her skin would be set on fire.

Margaery finally reached Sansa’s cunt; she paused for a moment, seemingly to admire it, before pressing a kiss into her inner thigh. Sansa practically jolted at the wet contact of her lips.

“Marge-,” she whined, barely able to make eye contact with the brunette, her face covered by Sansa’s thighs.

“Relax,” Margaery smiled, pressing a kiss into her other thigh. “Let me make you feel good.”

Sansa felt more and more kisses placed against her thighs as they moved closer and closer to her cunt; Margaery must have sensed how desperate she was at this point as she ensured that every press of her lips was everywhere except on her pussy, teasing her with a touch that would never come.

“ _Please_ ,” Sansa said, so hopeless for Margaery’s touch.

The brunette must have developed some sympathy for the redhead because her lips finally found Sansa’s cunt and _Gods,_ it was the most marvellous sensation the redhead had ever experienced; Sansa wrapped her legs around Margaery’s head, so needy for her tongue to be deeper and deeper into her womanhood. And just exactly _how_ Margaery used her tongue, flicking inside her just like _that_ ; Sansa was ready to come apart all over again.

She was sure that the moan she cried out would boost Margaery’s ego even more but Sansa didn’t even care, relishing the feeling of the brunette’s tongue working inside her; no-one else had even come close to Margaery’s skill with her tongue.

“You taste so good, sweet girl,” Margaery stated, stopping her movements for just a moment before she started back up again.

Sansa pinched her own nipples, so lost in a blissful euphoria, practically bathing in a constant stream of pleasure. She felt Margaery place her hand in the v of her legs and use her thumb to apply pressure to her clit; Sansa didn’t even bother to restrain her moans of pleasure. She was certain anyone nearby would think she was being murdered but she couldn’t find herself to care.

It was when Margaery sped up her movements – with both her thumb and her tongue – that a litany of moans came spilling out her mouth.

“Margaery,” she whined. “Gods, don’t stop, don’t stop, Margaery, Margaery, _Marge_ -“ she practically shouted as her orgasm shook her to her core, gasping and trembling against the brunette’s tongue. Margaery did not let up for a moment, her tongue still working in and around Sansa’s cunt, ensuring that every single drop of Sansa’s wetness was licked up.

It was only when Sansa stopped her quivering did Margaery’s actions slow to a halt; Sansa pulled her up to her lips and tasted herself as Margaery’s tongue met her own, battling inside of her mouth. As much as Sansa could drown in the brunette’s kisses, she was the one to have an orgasm, so she pulled away first, breathless.

“Gods, that was… you are just…” Sansa gasped, at a complete loss for words.

“I know darling,” Margaery smiled, placing a gentle kiss against Sansa’s temple, laying down and resting against her shoulder. “I almost came just doing that to you.”

Margaery wrapped an arm around her waist and snuggled deeper into her; Sansa could easily fall asleep like that, well and truly fucked, warm and relaxed in the brunette’s arms. But she knew that Margaery was so desperate earlier and – if she were completely honest with herself – she wanted to taste Margaery too.

She leant down and pressed a kiss against Margaery’s lips, catching the brunette by surprise. Margaery’s hands came up to her face and pulled her closer so that she was almost laying entirely atop of Sansa.

In one swift movement, Sansa flipped Margaery so that she was atop the brunette, drawing a very unexpected yelp from her. Sansa stared down at Margaery, a small smile overtaking her face, and gave her a small peck on her lips. “Let me make you feel good,” she murmured into her skin, moving down to kiss her neck.

Margaery had very quickly worked out what she liked, and Sansa hoped to do the same; judging by the way the brunette’s breath hitched when she started her descent of kisses, Sansa was sure that she’d enjoy the same treatment she gave to the redhead. She kissed into all the available skin on her neck, gently grazing with her teeth, feeling a sense of satisfaction when Margaery tilted her head to allow her better access.

Sansa continued to make a series of lovebites into her skin, feeling a quiet sense of possession as she marked Margaery’s wonderfully soft skin, especially enjoying the soft moans that came from the brunette.

The redhead moved down from her neck, placing kisses all the way down her chest; she could feel how rapid the brunette’s breathing had become, waiting in thrilled anticipation of Sansa moving down her body. She reached out, grabbing a wonderfully soft tit, save for the nipple, hard against Sansa’s palm; she gave a tentative squeeze, rewarded by a gentle moan from Margaery.

“ _Sansa_ ,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful, Marge,” she responded, plain and simple. “Everything about you is just so _perfect_.” She kissed a stiff nipple to mark her point, making Margaery jolt a little. One of her hands buried themselves in Sansa’s hair, tugging gently.

She took the rest of the breast into her mouth, using her tongue to trace around a firm peak while using her free hand to massage the other; Margaery let out a shocked gasp, pulling tighter on Sansa’s hair; she found herself quite enjoying making a mess of Margaery.

She moved further down, applying kisses to a flat stomach, until she finally reached Margaery’s pussy, half kneeling, half lying between her legs. Sansa looked up at the brunette, her brown eyes full of want and need, and gave her a soft smile, starting to press open-mouthed kisses into her thighs.

She was _really_ going to enjoy this.

Margaery hadn’t lied when she said that she was soaked; Sansa hadn’t even managed to get directly to her cunt and she could faintly taste her arousal on her thighs. Margaery’s earlier words about everything coming out of her cunt would go into her mouth echoed in her mind as she kissed and licked all the wet areas, drawing a groan from Margaery.

Sansa finally reached Margaery’s folds, wet and glistening under the studio light, using a single finger to trace around but not enter. Part of her was fascinated at just how wet and turned on Margaery was for _her;_ a country-wide model was in _her_ studio, her pussy dripping wet for _her_ , just a simple photographer.

Not even in her wildest fantasies did she imagine something like this would happen.

She leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her pussy, licked a broad stroke directly into Margaery’s cunt, her tongue entering her folds and dripping in her arousal.

“Sweet girl!” she cried. “Oh, _my_ _Sansa!_ ”

 _My Sansa._ It was selfish. Possessive. Almost dominating.

Sansa adored it; loved the way it sounded in her head – _her Sansa_ , on her knees, licking the cunt of _her Margaery_.

It was as if the whole world around them had paused or disappeared; the only thing that mattered was Sansa and Margaery; how Sansa was going to use her tongue to fuck Margaery until she shook and called her name; how Margaery would tremble around Sansa’s face until her orgasm fully shook through her.

Sansa continued to lap at her womanhood, so lost in Margaery’s _warmth_ and Margaery’s _wetness_ and Margaery’s _taste_ , barely noticing how the brunette’s legs wrapped around her head in an attempt to get even closer than they already were.

She slid her tongue in and out of Margaery’s damp pussy, flicking it like _that_ , drawing cries of pleasure from Margaery. She used her thumb to apply the gentlest pressure to her clit, drawing tiny, tiny circles and making Margaery’s hips buckle.

Margaery’s cries of pleasure filled the room as Sansa continued to work at the brunette’s womanhood; every little moan, cry and whimper that came out of Margaery’s mouth only provided further encouragement to Sansa, convincing her to go on and on and on. Tasting Margaery’s arousal, how wet and tart it was, only made Sansa flick harder, use wider strokes with her tongue as if she was completely insatiable for the brunette’s taste.

“Sans…” Margaery whimpered out, “wait a sec…”

Sansa paused, wanting to do nothing more than dive back in between Margaery’s thighs and continue eating her out. Margaery beckoned her to her head, pulling her in for a deep kiss, seemingly uncaring for where she had just been. Sansa responded in turn, meeting Margaery’s tongue with her own, a hand burying itself into chestnut curls.

Sansa would’ve been content to stay like that for a while, happily exploring Margaery’s mouth with her tongue but Margaery pulled away, her eyes full of lust and want. She pulled away, leaving Sansa slightly light-headed, and began to turn around so that she and Sansa would be lying parallel to each other.

Sansa quickly caught on to what she was doing, adjusting herself so that Margaery would be laying directly atop her face. She felt Margaery’s hot breath against her own pussy as the brunette’s wetness was once again in her face.

Neither girl wasted any time resume eating out their partner, using wet tongues on even wetter cunts. Sansa groaned at the return of Margaery’s tongue but was desperate for the brunette to come for her. She continued her assault against Margaery’s cunt, using both of her hands to grip the naked arse that drove her so crazy.

The benefit of already having came twice was allowing her to focus more on Margaery’s enjoyment and what she was doing to the brunette. Sansa practically nuzzled her tongue deep into Margaery’s entrance, eliciting a high pitched moan; she felt a small victory at hearing it.

She moved down and slid her mouth up against Margaery’s swollen clit and sucks, sucking directly on the little pink bundle, causing a moan from Margaery that Sansa had never heard from anyone, not even from the videos she watched when she was horny and alone – she realised why the brunette wanted to hear her make similar noises earlier; it was practically intoxicating hearing how much she was enjoying it.

Margaery’s tongue continued to twist, lapping at damp folds, but her speed had slowed, movements grown sloppy and less precise; Sansa could tell she was close. She continued to lick at Margaery’s cunt, her movements inspired with an increased fervour, relishing the taste of the brunette. It was only when Sansa used her thumb to rub at her clit, swollen and hidden between damp folds, that Margaery stopped her movements entirely and let out an almighty moan.

Sansa never let up, not even for a moment, letting Margaery ride out her orgasm directly on the redhead’s tongue. Margaery grinded against Sansa’s face, her cunt slick with arousal, and the redhead was more than happy to let herself be covered in it; desired it even.

It was only when Margaery recovered did Sansa feel fingers enter through her own slickness, curl up and thrust the way that had before. Hearing Margaery come, feeling her arousal drip down her own face and settle on her tongue had turned her on to a point not even she thought possible. She was already close; Margaery’s fingers constantly flying in and out of her cunt tipped her over the edge.

She buried her face into Margaery’s thigh, so utterly exhausted after being fucked _so well_ and getting to fuck Margaery too. She was content at just leaving it at that, cuddling up to the brunette and falling asleep. But with the way Margaery was settling atop her legs, Sansa presumed she had other ideas.

She had Margaery’s lips once again against hers, her mouth full of her own taste as well as Margaery’s. The kisses were deep and slow, relaxed and lazy, as if Margaery was trying to drag them out as long as possible.

Margaery pulled away from her, leaning back up against Sansa’s long legs, and pressing both of their damp, bare cunts together; Sansa tried to choke back a moan.

“Sweet girl,” Margaery said dreamily. “My sweet, sweet Sansa.”

Margaery began rocking her hips, rubbing their cunts together, holding onto Sansa’s raised leg. Sansa was helpless to stop Margaery’s movements – not that she would ever want to – only able to reach for her hands.

“Marge-,” she practically whispered, not even able to get sentences out at this point.

Margaery said nothing, simply brought both of Sansa’s hands up to her lips as she continued to press into her pussy with her own. She watched as Margaery tits bounced with their movements; Sansa brought her hands up to her chest and grabbed them, Margery giving her a sexy smile. She ran her hands over pert nipples, loving how the brunette moaned in response to her touch.

Margaery leaned down, not once pausing her movements, giving Sansa a lingering kiss on her lips. Sansa buried a hand in Margaery’s hair, pulling her closer, trying to eliminate all the space that existed between them.

Never before had Sansa had sex like this; granted her dating history wasn’t extensive, a few relationships that never really went anywhere, a couple of dates that fizzled out before the night was over. And yet, no-one had ever made her feel as good as Margaery was currently doing, as delicate yet commanding as Margaery had shown.

 _There’s no way someone was allowed to be that beautiful and this good at sex_ , she thought.

Sansa felt her fourth orgasm build up inside her as Margaery continued her rocking, her lips still pressed against Sansa’s.

“Margaery,” she murmured against her lips, “I’m so so close.”

Margaery smiled and pressed one final peck against her lips before adjusting herself upright; she grabbed onto Sansa’s leg and increased her speed, rocking against her cunt with a reinvigorated speed. She kissed away all along the redheads’ skin, directly from her mouth all the way to her ear.

“Sansa,” she said. “Come for me Sansa, my sweet girl.”

Sansa immediately gave in, her orgasm overtaking her in an instant. She let out a moan against Margaery’s neck; although with the way Margaery collapsed into her, her breathing heavy, she was certain that Margaery had just came too, her pussy feel damp with either her or Margaery’s arousal. Probably both. And she was filled with a quiet sense of satisfaction that they had taken their orgasms together.

Sansa closed her eyes and exhaled heavily, the tiredness of having came four times in a night finally catching up with her. She felt Margaery’s arms wrap under her own and pulled their sweaty bodies together, the brunette’s hands resting on her stomach; she tilted her head back, meeting Margaery’s lips as she relaxed into her arms. The brunette’s hands roamed all over her front as their lips continued to meet, touching all the sweaty available skin.

It was when Margaery’s fingers found her entrance once again that Sansa pulled away, moaning ever so softly.

“Margaery,” she said, struggling to get the words out.

“One more time, sweet girl,” she spoke softly into her ear, “come one more time for me.”

Sansa was exhausted – but with how sweetly Margaery asked, how good Margaery made her feel, she was determined to last for one last time.

“Gods, you are so good, Sansa.” Her voice was just barely above a whisper, radiating with want. “I only wish I could take you home, fuck you well and proper.” She lowered her head down to Sansa’s, pressing wanting kisses against her lips.

If Margaery had considered _this_ – without a doubt, the best sex Sansa had ever had in her life – as not well or proper, then she was highly inquisitive of what she would do if they were at her house.

And more than a little excited for it.

Fingers continued to move in and out of her cunt as Margaery continued her movements, her lips constantly clashing with Sansa’s, the redhead’s head resting against the brunette’s shoulder.

“You’re so good, sweet girl. Getting to kiss those soft lips of yours; touch these adorable tits of yours; getting to fuck your pretty little cunt; I’ve loved every moment of this.” Margaery’s voice was low and husky in her ear, the brunette’s words only serving to increase Sansa’s arousal.

Sansa was sure she had developed a praise kink purely off of Margaery’s praise and dirty words alone.

Margaery’s free hand came up to grasp a tit, rolling a stiff nipple between her fingers, squeezing and applying a light pressure; Sansa moaned in pleasure, tilting her head up and kissing against Margaery’s neck.

“You’re so beautiful Sans. Truly,” she whispered. “I’m so glad we got to do this. That _I_ got to do this with _you_. To _you_.”

Sansa could feel herself at the edge, almost over it. “Marge,” she gasped.

“Almost there, sweet girl. Come for me. One. Last. Time.” She emphasised her words with heavy thrusts into Sansa’s cunt, finally giving Sansa her release. She could feel her cunt tighten around Margaery’s fingers as her orgasm washed over her.

Margaery giggled as Sansa felt her lips press against her forehead. She watched through hooded eyes as Margaery grabbed the duvet from the floor and lay it over the pair of them, wrapping an arm around Sansa’s waist in the process.

“Gods, that was… wow. I’ve never done anything like that before,” Margaery said, nestling against her shoulder.

“Me either,” she responded. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Margaery grinned, pressing a gentle kiss against Sansa’s lips. “So are you, my sweet girl.” She continued to give a series of tender kisses to Sansa, never pushing or growing beyond what they were; Sansa would probably pass out if they went any further. _Speaking of which_ …

“Hey Marge,” Sansa mumbled against her lips. “Can I take you out on a date? Like after this, or whenever you free?”

Margaery smile grew until it fit her whole face; this one didn’t radiate desire or want – just pure, unadulterated happiness. “I’d love that.” She gave another kiss to Sansa, curling some of her stray red strands behind her ears. She had Margaery’s forehead pressed against hers, smiling wholly, eyes beaming.

“Would you think any less of me if I took a nap?” she asked.

Sansa laughed. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” She could feel her tiredness pulling her down into sleep, struggling to fight against it.

Margaery nestled fully against her shoulder, wrapped her arm tighter around Sansa’s waist; she wrapped her arm around the brunette’s back, pulling her closer and closer. This felt just so _right_ to her, as if this was what she was missing out on, dreaming of the whole time.

“Your sister isn’t due back anytime soon, is she?” Margaery asked, just as Sansa was on the cusp of sleep.

“Gods, I hope not,” she said. “I’m not getting up if she does.” She felt the brunette giggle against her shoulder as she swiftly fell asleep, safely wrapped in her Margaery’s arms.


End file.
